


clamor

by rincewitch



Series: Warrior of Moonlight [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, i which i (a humble lesbian) attempt to write m/f smut for some reason????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26378152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rincewitch/pseuds/rincewitch
Summary: ffxiv write 2020 day 8: clamorIt was never particularly difficult to tell what Haurchefant was thinking. Where other Ishgardians were closed-off, he wore his emotions on his sleeve; where they were cold, he was possessed of a boundless warmth. Even the other Ishgardians she’d met and gotten on perfectly well with-- Aymeric, commander of the Temple Knights, for example, or his second Lucia-- seemed to always be holding some piece of themselves back. Not so with Haurchefant. Rinh herself-- who’d gotten into the habit of folding up her feelings and storing them away to deal with later, especially when things were bad (and, for the moment, they were assuredly bad)-- could learn a thing or two from him.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Series: Warrior of Moonlight [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905535
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25
Collections: #FFxivWrite2020 Final Fantasy 30 Day Writing Challenge, Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched Bookclub FFXIV-Writes 2020 Collection





	clamor

Coerthas was silent, still, and freshly blanketed with pristine white snow; a picturesque winter landscape right out of a storybook.

Rinh Panipahr, looking out a window at Camp Dragonhead, supposed she ought to appreciate this— on the rare occasions it did snow where she grew up, it was just a miserable grey slush. And with Ul’dah now several months in the past but still fresh in her memory, surely there was something to be said for the sight of the realm quiet, beautiful, and utterly at peace.

Actually, though, she hated it. It was too bright, for one thing; all the years away from the Shroud she’d spent getting used to a diurnal schedule still didn’t prepare her for the dazzling white of the morning sun hitting fresh snow.

Mostly, though, the infuriating stillness and silence reminded her of her own predicament: still barred from Ishgard, hunted for regicide in most of the rest of Eorzea, trapped in a world circumscribed by the defensive walls of Camp Dragonhead and utterly unable to do  _ anything  _ about it. She barely even had any news from the outside— just a few hasty messages passed along by Yugiri and her shinobi. Urianger was still in hiding and unharmed. Her brother and his father had succeeded in spirit her son to safety before the Braves came to La Noscea in force, thank the Twelve.

But, by and large, she felt utterly powerless to affect her surroundings or circumstances in a way that hadn’t  _ really _ been true since she was a refugee in Stonesthrow with nothing but the clothes on her back and an infant son to care for. Even as a gladiator, she’d been able to sock away money in hopes of buying her way into a life more worth living.

But…

She turned from the window, the blinding light to her back, and looked to the bed, where Haurchefant was sitting up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, looking back at her. 

But at least she wasn’t  _ alone. _

She’d gladly shoulder the burden of looking after the rump of the Scions when there was someone else looking after  _ her _ .

She sat down beside him on the bed. He smiled one of those easy smiles of his, as if he was overjoyed to be reunited with her after they’d been separated by a few bells’ sleep. It was never particularly difficult to tell what Haurchefant was thinking. Where other Ishgardians were closed-off, he wore his emotions on his sleeve; where they were cold, he was possessed of a boundless warmth. Even the other Ishgardians she’d met and gotten on perfectly well with-- Aymeric, commander of the Temple Knights, for example, or his second Lucia-- seemed to always be holding some piece of themselves back. Not so with Haurchefant. Rinh herself-- who’d gotten into the habit of folding up her feelings and storing them away to deal with later, especially when things were bad (and, for the moment, they were  _ assuredly _ bad)-- could learn a thing or two from him.

He had also woken up with an extremely obvious hard-on.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” she said, hands already wandering down his body.

“Is that what you’d like to do?” he breathed, even as the deep blush spreading across his face made it obvious what  _ he’d _ like; his first thought is always for her, even when what she’s doing is blatantly offering to suck his dick.

“Right now,” she murmured, “What I want is to make  _ you  _ feel good.” She kisses him on the lips, then on the neck, then on the chest, working her way closer and closer to the length of him. “You deserve it.”

His sleepy smile became a grin, undisguisedly and utterly shamelessly hungry. “Then,” he said, “By all means…” His fingers card through her hair, gently--  _ gently-- _ guiding her head downwards.

Her lips part just enough to tentatively lap at his head— and even this is enough to draw a moan from him. He was always loud, which took some getting used to, at first; before she met him, her experience with sex was an excercise in the particular sort of restraint called for when the only thing between you and accidentally waking everyone up— or drawing the attention of some large predator— or a very confused Wood Wailer— was a tent draped with heavy furs.

She had no intention of stopping there, of course; she took his shaft further into her mouth, and her head began bobbing in a steady rhythm. She closed her eyes; the only things she noticed now were the taste of him, the heat of his throbbing cock, the sharp cries she coaxed from his throat, his hands on her head helping set the tempo.

It didn’t take him long at all to come; his eagerness had been clear the moment she’d started.

That was all right, she thought, swallowing hard, listening to his heavy breathing as he slid himself out of her mouth; she knew they were just getting started.

The silence of a winter morning like this could be stifling.

But she could still make some damn noise if she set her mind to it.


End file.
